The Mousetrap полностью

(CHRISTOPHER WREN enters quietly from the stairs Left and comes up behind MOLLIE.)

CHRISTOPHER. (Singing)

“The North Wind doth blow

And it will bring snow

And what will the robin do then, poor thing?”

I adore nursery rhymes, don’t you? Always so tragic and macabre. That’s why children like them.

MOLLIE. May I introduce. Mr. Wren—Mrs. Boyle.

(CHRISTOPHER bows.)

MRS. BOYLE. (Coldly) How d’you do?

CHRISTOPHER. This is a very beautiful house. Don’t you think so?

MRS. BOYLE. I have come to the time of life when the amenities of an establishment are more important than its appearance.

(CHRISTOPHER backs away up Right. GILES enters from the stairs Left and stands below the arch.)

If I had not believed this was a running concern I should never have come here. I understand it was fully equipped with every home comfort.

GILES. There is no obligation for you to remain here if you are not satisfied, Mrs. Boyle.

MRS. BOYLE. (Crossing to Right of the sofa) No, indeed, I should not think of doing so.

GILES. If there has been any misapprehension it would perhaps be better if you went elsewhere. I could ring up for the taxi to return. The roads are not yet blocked.

(CHRISTOPHER moves down and sits in the armchair Centre.)

We have had so many applications for rooms that we shall be able to fill your place quite easily. In any case we are raising our terms next month.

MRS. BOYLE. I am certainly not going to leave before I have tried what the place is like. You needn’t think you can turn me out now.

(GILES moves down Left.)

Perhaps you will take me up to my bedroom, Mrs. Ralston? (She moves majestically towards the staircase Left.)

MOLLIE. Certainly, Mrs. Boyle. (She followsMRS. BOYLE. ToGILES, softly, as she passes him) Darling, you were wonderful . . .

(MRS. BOYLE and MOLLIE exit Left up the stairs.)

CHRISTOPHER. (Rising, childishly) I think that’s a perfectly horrible woman. I don’t like her at all. I’d love to see you turn her out into the snow. Serve her right.

GILES. It’s a pleasure I’ve got to forgo, I’m afraid.

(The door bell peals.)

Lord, there’s another of them.

(GILES goes out to the front door.)

(Off) Come in—come in.

(CHRISTOPHER moves to the sofa and sits. MISS CASEWELL enters up Right. She is a young woman of a manly type, and carries a case. She has a long dark coat, a light scarf and no hat. GILES enters.)

MISS CASEWELL. (In a deep, manly voice) Afraid my car’s bogged about half a mile down the road—ran into a drift.

GILES. Let me take this. (He takes her case and puts it Right of the refectory table.) Any more stuff in the car?

MISS CASEWELL. (Moving down to the fire) No, I travel light.

(GILES moves above the armchair Centre.)

Ha, glad to see you’ve got a good fire. (She straddles in front of it in a manly fashion.)

GILES. Er—Mr. Wren—Miss—?

MISS CASEWELL. Casewell. (She nods toCHRISTOPHER.)

GILES. My wife will be down in a minute.

MISS CASEWELL. No hurry. (She takes off her overcoat.) Got to get myself thawed out. Looks as though you’re going to be snowed up here. (Taking an evening paper from her overcoat pocket) Weather forecast says heavy falls expected. Motorists warned, etcetera. Hope you’ve got plenty of provisions in.

GILES. Oh yes. My wife’s an excellent manager. Anyway, we can always eat our hens.

MISS CASEWELL. Before we start eating each other, eh?

(She laughs stridently and throws the overcoat at GILES, who catches it. She sits in the armchair Centre.)

CHRISTOPHER. (Rising and crossing to the fire) Any news in the paper apart from the weather?

MISS CASEWELL. Usual political crisis. Oh yes, and a rather juicy murder!

CHRISTOPHER. A murder? (Turning toMISS CASEWELL) Oh, I like murder!